


Pink Roses

by justanoutherfangirl



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Florist AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 14:16:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4880002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanoutherfangirl/pseuds/justanoutherfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of this AU:<br/>'I work as a florist and every day you walk in, buy one flower and give it to me'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pink Roses

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, so yeah... sorry in advance!
> 
> Also, I'm not a florist.

Clarke’s Saturday started wonderfully – she gave herself a paper cut within the first five minutes of opening her store (Who knew that the soft paper that she used to wrap flowers could be so dangerous?) and she knocked over a bucket full of geraniums waiting to be put on display on her way to grab a band aid. As she watched the water slosh over the floor, she couldn’t help but get the feeling that her day was unlikely to improve much.

Muttering darkly under her breath, she finished collecting her band aid and then turned to her next immediate problem – the flowers, and perhaps more frustratingly, the water all over her floor. Figuring that the only way it would get cleaned up was if she did it (Thanks largely to the fact that today she was the only one in the store – the girl she’d hired a few days ago wasn’t due to start until next week) she righted the geraniums and dug out a mop.

Of course, it was just as she’d started and the mop was making wet squelchy noises that two new customers wandered in. Forcing herself to smile, Clarke deposited the mop off to the side as unobtrusively as she could and asked if there was anything she could do for them. One, the shorter of the two men, turned and forced a smile back at her.

“Yeah, I need a big bunch of flowers.” This caused the tall one to turn, and if Clarke was being perfectly honest, he made her catch her breath. He had soft curls that framed his tanned face, and dark, soulful eyes surrounded by a dusting of freckles.

“Ones that mean ‘I’m sorry, I fucked up big time’ in flower language.” He laughed, a gentle sound. Of course, she realised that the short one had probably cheated on his girlfriend and she narrowed her eyes. She’d had more than enough experience with cheaters in the past.

“Shut up, Bellamy.” The short one hissed.

“It’s true.” The tall one, Bellamy said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Okay, so you’re looking at Lilies or maybe Tulips… They don’t necessarily mean ‘I’m sorry’ but they should do the trick.” Clarke said in her usual ‘chipper customer service professional’ tone, but she couldn’t help but wonder what this man had done, and just how much of a dick he’d been to the person he was apologising to. And that, of course, made her angry with the both of them.   
Especially at Bellamy or whatever his name was, for treating it like a joke.

“Yeah, you’re a girl right?” This earned the man in front of her a disapproving glare, mostly because she knew what was coming next. “Whatever you think will make her forgive me.” Part of her (Actually, all of her, but who was counting?) wanted to say "Well with that attitude no amount of flowers is going to fix anything – not to mention that you aren’t apologising to me, so how am I supposed to know how bad you screwed up?" But she also wanted to sell her flowers and get these two out of here because they were actually starting to get on her nerves.

“Right then.” She smiled, but it was far more venomous than before. She flitted around the shop for a few minutes pulling together a beautiful bouquet of different coloured Tulips, feeling her frustration melt for a minute or two. This was what she loved about her store – making art out of individual flowers, coaxing all the colours into working together and fitting each stem in with all the others. This was the reason she’d decided to open a store after graduating as an art major (A move that had disappointed her parents to some extent – her Dad hadn’t taken too long to come around, but Clarke was fairly sure that her Mum never would). Still, it made her happy, so it was more than enough for her.

“That comes to $70.” She told the shorter man pointedly. He handed over his money and, it had to be said, looked a little ridiculous carrying the massive bunch of flowers. Clarke had felt sorry for his girlfriend… the poor girl at least deserved a decent apology, she was sure. “Can I do anything for you?” She asked Bellamy.

“Ah, yeah, can I just grab this?” He asked, handing her a single pink rose. The transaction was an easy one, so she had it all sorted in under a minute. “Thanks. Actually, the girl it’s for, my sister, she works here now so could you just give this to her when she gets here?” He asked, his shuffling feet betraying his gruff voice.

“Ahhh… Octavia is your sister?” Clarke asked, vaguely surprised she hadn’t noticed before. If Octavia treated cheaters like a joke as well, she may not last very long as Clarke’s employee. Still, it was a very sweet thing for him to do, even if he had gotten the date wrong. Maybe he wasn’t so bad…

“Yeah.”

“Oh, well, okay then.” Clarke said, taking the rose. The two men left maybe half a second before Clarke remembered one important fact. “Wait!” She called; stepping out onto the wet floor and feeling her whole body slide out from underneath her. She just managed to catch herself on the bench with her free hand, but she was blushing furiously by the time Bellamy and his friend walked back into the shop. “Ummm…” Clarke started, distracted. “Oh yeah! Your sister doesn’t start until next week.”

“Oh. Um, okay, I don’t want it particularly and she’s not coming over tonight…” Bellamy muttered, but more to himself than to Clarke. Then he looked up at her, the sudden eye contact making her start. “Why don’t you keep it?”

“Yay. Problem solved. Can we go now?” The other man said, sarcasm dripping off his tongue.

“Okay Murphy, I’m coming.” Bellamy said easily and strode out of the shop (Carefully avoiding the puddles) and Clarke found herself clinging to her counter, blushing furiously, holding a single, pink rose. 

——-

The rest of the week passed fairly normally for Clarke after that. She didn’t re-sell the rose, as Raven had almost automatically advised her “After all, why not   
make even more profit? It’s not like he actually means anything to you. Right?” And Clarke had had to agree. Bellamy, who she’d met once for a total of five minutes, meant nothing to her. But she still took the flower home and put it in a vase. The bloom was still going strong, if the scent had faded a bit – She’d spent all week convincing herself that she’d only kept the flower because it was pretty, and although that had certainly played into the equation, she knew it was only one part of the story. And now, a week later, she was off to work to start teaching Bellamy’s little sister, Octavia, how to be a florist.

It was going to be a big week.

“Hello!” Quite honestly the most cheerful greeting she’d ever been given on a Monday morning in her life earned her new employee a genuine smile.

“Hey. It’s Octavia, right?”

“Sure is. And you’re Clarke, yes? It’s okay if I call you Clarke?” Clearly, Octavia was the bubbly sort.

“Yeah, go for it.” Clarke smiled, as she lifted the noisy covering for the entrance to her shop. “Okay, first things first, I’m gonna teach you how to take inventory and how to run the cashier. The actual flower part will come later… I think we’ll get you to practice on some of the old flowers first, yeah?”

“Sounds good to me.” Octavia said with a smile and a shrug, and suddenly Clarke could see the resemblance between her and her brother.

“Great.”

Octavia turned out to be a quick learner, with a knack for making complete strangers smile that Clarke had never had to the same degree. Her presence made Clarke’s day go far more smoothly, and now she had someone who she could get to do some of the worse tasks without feeling horribly guilty. It was nice, actually. And Octavia was a vivacious talker, so all she had to do was smile and nod, which was also nice. Octavia told Clarke about her degree (A journalism degree, that she was currently taking part time so that she and her boyfriend could afford to move in together) and about how her brother was finally starting to come around to said boyfriend (Apparently Lincoln had huge tribal tattoos, that despite their ‘hotness’, had made her over protective brother very nervous.) 

Generally, it was a good day, and an uneventful one too, which Clarke figured was probably for the best. The only out-of-the-ordinary event was when Bellamy came in to visit his sister. He’d come late in the afternoon, only an hour or so before they were due to close.

“Hey, O.” He’d said softly – Octavia hadn’t noticed him yet, and his words caused her to jump noticeably.

“Bell!” She’d squealed, and rushed over to hug him. The scene felt too intimate for Clarke – clearly these two siblings were very close, and she barely knew either of them.

“So, how’s it going?” Bellamy had asked, a proud sort of half smile on his face. This, of course, was the initiator of a tirade of excited chatter from Octavia, and Bellamy nodded at the appropriate times for at least ten minutes. Clarke found herself grinning as she adjusted one of the displays. As Octavia wound down (She’d been very complimentary, and she didn’t strike Clarke as the type to lie about these things) Bellamy collected two pink roses from their perch.

“Can I get these two, please?” He’d asked, laughter in his eyes. Octavia hit him gently on the arm and handed the roses to Clarke while she wandered over to the check out. “Wrapped separately, please.” He said, surprisingly softly, to Clarke.

“Sure thing.” Clarke didn’t have to force a smile for him this time. In fact, she couldn’t stop smiling as she wrapped the flowers. “Here you go.” She handed them over to him fully expecting at least one of them to go to Octavia. She assumed the other one must be for his girlfriend.

He just laughed and handed one straight over to Octavia, who rolled her eyes with seriously the biggest smile Clarke had ever seen, except maybe on Well’s face when he beat her at Chess. To be fair to him, it was a fairly rare occurrence. Then, strangely Bellamy turned back to her and handed her the other flower. “Because, well, I figured it would be rude, seeing as I gave you one last week?” He sounds a little scared, but all Clarke can do is smile.

“Thank you.” And if her voice sounded a little scratchy, so what?

“Awwwwwwww.” Octavia cooed loudly, and Bellamy jumped slightly, turning to her and the two started talking again, leaving Clarke feeling strangely bereft. However, this time Octavia shooed him out the door after only a few minutes.

With Bellamy gone, Clarke found herself grinning like an idiot and once again clutching a single, pink rose as though it was the only key to her heart.

“Umm, how about I teach you how to wrap the flowers, Octavia?” Clarke offered when she caught the other girl staring at her.

“Sounds good. Oh, and please, call me O.”

“You got it.”

——–

After that, Clarke settled into a routine. Everyday, Bellamy would come into the shop (Whether or not Octavia was there) and buy her a single pink rose. When Octavia was there, he bought two, and when she wasn’t, he bought one. The end result was that she had her biggest vase filled with pink roses, constantly on rotation. Raven stopped telling her to sell them twice, but whenever she came over she would always stare at the flowers for a moment and then give Clarke a knowing look.

Bellamy started staying longer and longer each time. Often he would talk to his sister, who had long since stopped trying to convince him that he should go and live his life rather than check up on her every day. When she was at Uni, though, he would often linger and talk to Clarke.

And Clarke, strangely, found herself looking forward to those times with more far more excitement than was safe. Bellamy would sit on the counter and joke with her while she wandered around the shop, replenishing flowers and just generally keeping busy. It was during this time that she learnt of the sibling’s hard upbringing, and their struggles. But she learnt about happier things during these times too – she learnt of Bellamy’s pride that Octavia was going to finish Uni and make a good start for herself. She’d risked stopping what she was doing to watch him, and saw in his eyes so much love for his sister that it warmed her to the core. That day was the first day she’d wished that Bellamy might hold some love of a different sort for her.

However, she knew full well she was getting in way too deep. She was certain he felt nothing for her but friendship, while she was being pulled further out from the safety of that shore by the tides of her own traitorous heart everyday. Not to mention, she knew that he wouldn’t stay single forever, and when that great day came, it was going to hurt like a bitch.

Knowing that months in advance didn’t make the great day any easier.

The day had been normal, with many of her regulars coming and going as they always did. However, she knew something was off – Octavia had been acting so carefully around her it was as though she was some sort of bear trap and if she stepped wrong O’d lose her leg. Finally, as the day was drawing to a close, Clarke made up her mind to confront her about it. If she knew something bad about Clarke’s life that Clarke herself didn’t, it was time for her to fess up.

However, just at that moment, Bellamy wandered in, so Clarke resolved to wait. Even that interaction felt weird to her though – O kept throwing her odd glances.

“Hey Bell, how’s it going.” Clarke asked, the smile that his presence always brought her rising to the surface.

“Good thanks.” He smiled, but he seemed different today. He turned and pulled down the customary pink roses, and then “Oh, and Clarke, can you please make me up a bunch of red roses too please? As nice as you can on short notice?”

Suddenly Clarke’s smile felt a lot more forced. “Sure.” Part of her felt like crying a little. And she wasn’t even entirely sure why. She’d know this would happen eventually. Not to mention, he wasn’t hers to feel sad over. In fact, as his friend she should be happy for him.

However, she just wasn’t. “Who are they for?” She’d intended the question to be cheery and bright, but found that it came out more downcast than it ever should have.

“A girl I met a week or so ago – I’m taking her out for dinner tonight it seems…” He trailed off, looking peculiar. Clarke ended up just putting it down to nerves.

He was nervous because he was taking someone out on a date. And it wasn’t her.

Mechanically, she began to put together the bouquet. Usually, that would have brought her a reprieve from her own emotions. But not today – Today, it felt like the flowers were mocking her, each one whispering “not you” in a different voice until the cacophony was so horrible she wanted to scream.

Finally, she was finished. “There you go.” She smiled, but the smile felt brittle.

“Aren’t you going to wrap the other two?” Octavia asked her gently. It was the kind of tone that someone might use if they didn’t want to frighten an animal.

“Um, why don’t you wrap them today? It'll be good practice.” Clarke offered. As if Octavia need practice wrapping flowers anymore – she was a pro. No, Clarke just didn’t want   
to face that she couldn’t pretend that the lonely pink rose meant more than it actually did.

Octavia wrapped them expertly, and handed Clarke’s straight to her, for which Clarke happily could have hugged her then and there.

“Right, well, have fun on your date, Bell.” There was something vaguely accusatory in O’s tone, but Clarke felt sort of separate from it all, like she was watching it all happen through a glass wall.

“Yeah, have fun.” Clarke echoed as Bellamy turned to leave.

So Clarke found her self barely able to keep a grip on her rose with stiff fingers. It felt more like she was holding the jagged edges of her heart than soft petals.

——-

Clarke drove herself home on autopilot that night. She had no memory of calling Raven until she was standing on her doorstep, banging at the knocker.

“Coming, coming!” Clarke called, and as soon as the door was unlocked Raven was hugging her tightly promising her that it would be okay.

Two Disney movies and half a bucket of ice cream later (Raven had brought both) Raven asked her gently if she wanted to talk. And Clarke did, very, very much, but she could barely find the words.Eventually, she came out with the truth of it. “I just feel so stupid. I knew this was coming and I knew it would suck and I know he feels nothing for me and probably never will but I just couldn’t help hoping. And now I can’t pretend anymore and he’ll probably keep coming to the shop because he’s done nothing wrong and I’ll have to be happy for him and he’ll probably keep buying me those stupid roses…” She trailed off, exhausted with the effort of her little speech, and she’d never been so grateful for her friend, who leant forward and whispered “Oh, Clarke” and held her while she cried.

After Clarke had almost cried herself out, Raven stood for a moment and put on Snow White (Clarke’s favourite). After maybe five minutes, Clarke had her head   
in Raven’s lap and was drifting off to an exhausted sleep.

The next day was a Sunday, and so Clarke and Raven just sort of bummed around for most of the day. By late afternoon, Clarke was beginning to feel more herself… but then she realised that the next day was a Monday, and that meant not only facing Bellamy, but also Octavia.

“Can I just take the day off sick?” She’d immediately whined to Raven.

“No.”

“Why not?” Clarke asked, feeling like the insolent child she was behaving as.

“Because the day after Monday is Tuesday, and if I remember rightly, Octavia doesn’t work on a Tuesday. That means you’ll have to face Bellamy alone.”

“Fine.” Clarke agreed grumpily, knowing full well Raven was dead right. “I’ll go in tomorrow.”

Raven actually went home that night, having her engineering course to face the next day. Clarke worried that with her gone, she might break down again, but she was surprised to find that she held up okay. She very carefully didn’t listen to any music knowing that that could push her over the edge and went to bed at 8 o’clock.If anyone had asked, she would have told them she was making up for how late she and Raven had stayed up the night before, or that she wanted to be in the best possible mood for tomorrow. The truth of it, the truth that she didn’t particularly like admitting even to herself was that the more time she spent sleeping the less time she could spend being angry or sad or a horrible mixture of both. 

Of course, the morning came eventually, and despite the extra sleep Clarke had to admit she wasn’t exactly feeling chipper. Still, she dragged herself out of bed, through her morning routine and to the shop. Thankfully, she’d arrived long before Octavia had, and so she got a bit of time to herself to lose her feelings in creating her daily masterpieces.

And then Octavia arrived. “Hey!” She’d smiled, assuming, Clarke supposed, that everything was fine.

“Hey O.” Clarke greeted her, only able to muster a small smile.

“Oh Clarke.” Octavia came over and gave her a massive hug. “Did something happen or is this about Bell?” Clarke couldn’t help but stare at her, dumbfounded. “I’ll take that as ‘This is about Bell’ shall I? Argh, the two of you are so dumb sometimes.”

“Wah?” Clarke found that that was all her mouth could do, but her thoughts were running at a thousands miles a minute. Did that mean that O knew about how she felt about Bellamy?

“Well, I mean, you’re both so into each other and neither of you can see that the other is into you too and so you’ve both been punishing yourselves all weekend and all this could be fixed if one of you would just say something to the other. See? Dumb.” Octavia managed to make it sound so matter of fact that Clarke could only blink.

“So, I mean, I won’t tell him that I told you to say something if that helps?” Octavia asked, suddenly looking a little worried.

“Yeah, that might be nice.” Clarke said, slowly returning to full function.

“Umm, okay.” Octavia said, and then, suddenly she grinned. “Oh my gods the two of you are finally going to tell each other that you’re in love and this is just like a movie.” And then Clarke found herself laughing with her excitable friend, although she had to admit to herself that her laugh sounded a tad more hysterical.

——-

Clarke, now that she had committed, suddenly realised that she had no game plan. She had never put much thought into how she might tell him about her feelings, but she was quickly starting to wish that that she had, rather than just sort of thinking ‘hey, I really like him!’ Still, it was too late to wish she’d done some better planning now.

Then, finally, finally, finally she had an idea.

The only downside to knowing how she was going to do it was then having to convince herself that she was actually going to do it. In this regard, Octavia proved priceless, constantly reminding Clarke that everything would go to plan and that if it didn’t she was knock something over really dramatically and Bellamy would be so busy fussing over her that it would be like it never happened at all. “Not that it’ll come to that, of course.” She grinned slightly at that. Almost as though she still knew something that Clarke didn’t.

Despite Clarke’s perpetual cold feet throughout the day, the afternoon arrived, and with it, Bellamy.

“Hey O! Clarke.” He smiled, but he seemed off. Still. Or maybe, Clarke thought, I’m just projecting my weirdness onto him.

He and O talked for a minute in hushed tones. That worked for Clarke anyways, because she was starting to feel vaguely panicky. “Go.” Octavia instructed him, and he walked over to the pink roses with more purpose that usual. However, he only pulled one out of the bucket. (This almost made Clarke abandon ship in and of itself – he’d never gotten just one pink rose out while both she and Octavia had been there.) Then, he wondered over to the red roses, and pulled out one of them.

Oh my god he’s not even getting me a rose today. He’s getting his girlfriend a rose and I should just back out now oh my god oh my GOD!

However, a stern glare in that exact moment from Octavia rooted Clarke to the spot. So when Bellamy handed her the roses to wrap, she took them with a weak smile.

As she returned them to him, she pulled out an extra pink rose, pre-wrapped, from under the desk. Unable to meet his eyes, she muttered, “This one’s for you.” And thrust it under his nose. Of course, she felt the beginnings of a blush appear on her cheeks and prayed for it not to get any worse – of course, that just made her go redder.

“Oh. Um… thank you, Clarke.” Bell’s voice felt awkward to her, she couldn’t bear it anymore. Where exactly was Octavia’s distraction? “This one’s for you, too.”

That caused her to look up. To her immense surprise, Bellamy was proffering the red rose that she’d assumed was for his girlfriend. “Oh.” Was all she could manage for a moment, staring at it.

And then, everything seemed to click into place. “Thank you!” She said softly, and took the rose, and then, hesitantly, looked into his eyes. They were soft and warm, and they held all the love in the world – for her. On impulse, she flung her arms around him, and she felt his surprise written all over his body, and then heard the crinkle of plastic as he wrapped his arms around her waist, slightly crushing the rose she’d given him and Octavia’s rose in the process.

He held her for what felt like a long time, but she was pretty sure it was only a minute. Then, he very, very gently released her - she had never felt so short in her life – and handed Octavia her rose. Then he turned to Clarke, and, in a voice far gruffer than usual, asked “Would you like to come out to dinner with me, Clarke?”

“Like a date?” Clarke asked, still, even after that, a little afraid.

“Like a date.” He confirmed, and Octavia squealed.

After that, their lives fell into a new routine, and Clarke had to admit that she liked this one a lot better. Bellamy would come by everyday, that never changed, but he would often come over to her house after for dinner, or they’d go to movie, or they’d just talk. If Octavia was working in the shop that day, he would always pick out a pink rose and Clarke would wrap it, then he’d hand it to his sister. And then, everyday, come rain or shine (Even if it was a Sunday and Clarke wasn’t working) he would give her a single, red rose.

And the best part? Well, for Clarke, it was that his lips were even softer than all the petals of those roses.


End file.
